Confessions
by MurtaghArcturus
Summary: Just a sweet one-shot of Hermione and Ron when she sneaks into his room at the Burrow after the war.


_**I think I wrote this at like 4am a few months ago and completely forgot about it. I know it's not super amazing, but it's not terrible so I thought I'd post it. Enjoy**_

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Hermione peeked her head out of the room, looking both ways down the dark hall. Finding no one, she went to step out. Ginny's voice stopped her.

"Tell Harry to get his arse down here, will you?" she said softly from her place atop her bed.

Hermione looked back at her, her face colouring slightly, even after doing this for nearly a month. "Sure," she said quietly. Ginny smirked, continuing her writing in her journal.

Hermione slowly tiptoed into the hall and started up the stairs, careful to maneuver around the places she knew creaks to be. As she came off the top step, Harry stepped out of the shadows and surprised her, making her squeak and fall back. Harry's arms quickly reached out and caught her about the shoulders, steadying her.

"Merlin Harry!" she said breathlessly, clutching her chest.

"Bollocks, sorry Hermione. I was just making my way down." He said, letting go of her arms and looking at her with a frown. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright, I just didn't hear you is all." She assured him with a small smile. "Ginny's waiting for you," she added.

Harry's eyes brightened in the dark and he smiled at her. They slowly stepped around each other, and Hermione continued quietly to Ron's room.

Opening the door and poking her head in, she found the lamp on but the room empty of her desired red head. Frowning in disappointment, she continued in.

On her way to sitting on the bed, she stopped and looked down after stepping lightly on one of his T-shirts. Biting her lip, she bent and picked it up, examining it. It was one of his Chudley Cannon shirts, slightly rumpled from being thrown on the floor. Being bright orange, it clashed horribly with his hair when he wore it, but it was one of her favourites. The way it fit around his torso when he wore it, the way it stretched to accommodate the muscle underneath had her blushing just from the thought.

Feeling acute excitement in the pit of her stomach, Hermione lifted the shirt to her face and deeply inhaled. _Mmm_ , she thought, breathing his scent in. _Cinnamon._

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway and Hermione quickly turned around, dropping the shirt and nearly jumping out of her skin.

* * *

He stood there for a moment, mouth slightly agape and hand still on the door handle, frozen.

 _She's smelling my shirt,_ he said to himself, staring at her back as she inhaled again. _My shirt._ Watching her had his whole body going warm. He cleared his throat, trying to fan the fog out of his brain where it had gathered. She squeaked and spun, her eyes meeting his and widening. She turned bright red, flushing from her chest to her forehead.

He grinned at her, "You can have it if you want." He said, meaning it sincerely. He'd give her anything she wanted. A shirt was nothing compared to what he was willing to do for her. Not that he'd tell her that- not if he didn't want to come off as a complete ponce.

She looked down, not meeting his eyes as she crossed one arm across her body. "No, no. Sorry, I was just-" she faltered, biting her lip as her eyebrows pulled together and she cringed in embarrassment.

He quickly stepped up to her, encircling her in his arms tightly and chuckling. He vaguely heard the door shut behind him, but was far more engrossed in the smell of her hair as she melted against him and wrapped her arms around his torso. He rubbed her back lightly.

They swayed for a few minutes, wrapped around each other in the dim light of the lamp. She stroked her hand across his chest, feeling his heartbeat. He pressed his hand against hers and held her there, pressing his face into her curls. He smiled and held onto her more tightly, feeling so happy and content in that moment, more so than he had in months.

She sighed into his chest and seemed to get smaller. "I'm sorry I'm not prettier." She said quietly, almost to herself.

He froze, thinking he must have heard her wrong. "What?" he asked her, hoping she wouldn't confirm his suspicions.

Hermione breathed out slowly into his shirt, shaking her head back and forth, burrowing further into his chest. "I just- I know I'm not those most… _attractive…"_ she hesitantly admitted, her voice caught in her throat. She tightened her arms around him like she was afraid he'd pull away in realization after she'd pointed it out.

He leaned back and looked at her incredulously. "Are you barmy?" When she wouldn't meet his eyes, Ron placed his hand under her chin and urged her to look up. "You're _gorgeous._ "

She looked at him with such sadness, like she really thought she wasn't the most beautiful person on the planet. He couldn't believe it. "Who told you that?" He asked her, still not releasing her chin.

"The girls in my dorm have said a few choice things about my bum."

His hands slowly slid down her body to cup her bottom over her shorts, watching her eyes widening and her face reddening, and he grinned. "I don't see anything wrong," he said, shaking his head.

She swatted him lightly on the chest but couldn't contain the smirk that pulled at the corners of her mouth. "They used to say I had 'dumpy thighs,'" she continued, scowling.

His hands slid further down, wrapping around the flesh of her thighs. He squeezed her legs, massaging lightly. "Again, I'm not finding anything wrong."

Hermione sighed again, and he straightened. She brought her hand to her hair, pulling on a strand that had escaped from the elastic that kept it pulled back. "They always used to tease me about my hair,"

He scoffed, genuinely offended. "I love your hair." He told her. "It's perfect… uncontrollable and stubborn. It just shows how passionate you are when you set your mind to something. I constantly want to wrap my hands in it… it's so… _you_." He coughed, his ears reddening at his admission. He hadn't meant to let that much slip, but seeing her so near tears had made his thought-mouth filter malfunction.

She stepped into his embrace again, hugging him. "Thank you, Ron." She whispered.

"C'mon… let's get to bed, ya?" He looked down at her and smiled, feeling the tips of his ears still burning.

Hermione took out her wand and whispered a quiet _Colloportus_ at the door and they climbed into his small bed, her face pressed into his chest and Ron's arms around her. Their legs entwined, leaving everything warm and comfortable. She placed her hand over his heart and he burrowed his nose in her hair, leaving their bodies pressed completely together, and fell asleep.

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 _ **Thank you for reading**_


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